


Riding Your Wave

by FanworkAuthor



Category: Free!
Genre: Australia because Rin lives there, Banter Haru lmao, Eventual Smut, Eventual relationship, Haru being the sassy thing he is, Haru has an interest in Rin's teeth, I know I'm sorry, I promise I'll try, Kisumi basically pushed Haru's career further, Kisumi being actually nice to haru, M/M, Makoto's such a good best friend, Seijuro being himself and crushing over Kou, Slow Build, The Author Regrets Nothing, There's quite a bit of fluff too, Wow this is actually a lot longer than I thought it would be, and Rin's really cheesy, it's painful, like really nice, they're both lovable dorks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 13:52:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3731281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanworkAuthor/pseuds/FanworkAuthor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Haru’s a sports and travel blogger/backpacker and Rin’s a surfer in Australia and the two meet by chance (they didn’t know each other until they meet). It only started because he missed Makoto at uni.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Silence by a Stream

**Author's Note:**

> AN: *Sweating nervously* Yeah so I haven’t written in ages. Let’s see how this works out and where it takes us. If you somehow manage to enjoy it, leave a comment or something (I’m new here?), I’d love to see your reactions!
> 
> It’s written in an AU where Haru’s a sports and travel blogger/backpacker and Rin’s a surfer in Australia and the two meet by chance (they didn’t know each other until they meet), and Makoto is off at university. It’s set after the second season, but you’ll hopefully begin to understand that as time goes on. It’s written from Haru’s perspective – sort of, as much as you can from third person, anyway – and I literally had this idea in the shower so it’s rough in some areas. (Pff, totally know what I’m doing don’t worry).
> 
> There’s probably three billion mistakes in this but (tbh) I’m really tired and I just wanna sleep, okay? Okay. *Get’s shot*.
> 
> \- Enjoy (?)  
> FA.

He’d only started doing it by accident. It had begun with him taking extended strolls through woodlands, in areas littered with beacons of sunlight that streamed through old trees near to his house. It wasn’t as if he knew it would become like this, making aimless trips around the globe in hope of finding something that would free him of the gloom he kept cooped up inside him.  
   When Makoto had first left for university, Haruka didn’t think much of it. They visited each other semi-weekly, when they could, and they didn’t mind too much. Haruka had even been known to stay at the university – with Makoto – on some weekends. The two had begun to get used to the idea of not seeing each other day in, day out. It’s not that they didn’t care – they did care – but being around one another wasn’t a necessity anymore. Although, Haruka did kind of miss being pulled out the tub every morning. Life went on.  
   But as the weeks turned into months, Makoto’s work gradually meant there was less and less time for seeing one another. Haruka respected that Makoto wanted to do well with his studies, but was upset that they spent less time together nowadays. Makoto was under pressure, and Haruka had more and more time on his hands.  
   Haruka found a job at a local aquarium, despite being advised not to by Makoto, who continued to fret he would neglect his responsibilities for the water. He cleaned the tanks for the dolphins, sharks, penguins and seals, meaning he would often be needed to wear a wetsuit and scuba gear to work. Not that it was a problem; he got to swim (a little), didn’t he?  
   So that was where he was now: scrubbing the grime from the inside of animals’ tanks and being pecked half to death by the rock-hopper penguins that inhabited them. It was a pretty dead end job, and he didn’t mind too much. He could pay his bills and buy his beloved mackerel, and should Makoto miraculously have some free time, he could just about squeeze enough from his paycheque to afford a train ticket to Tokyo, even though Makoto insisted he pay half of it.

When they were back in high school, they swam every day, and he was in (reasonably) good shape. Now however, despite the frequent trips to the gym and running every morning, Haruka found it difficult to build the same muscle he did after swimming all the time. He definitely wasn’t weak or fat - far from it, he was still extremely athletic - but didn’t have the same sturdiness to his torso or the firmness in his arms and legs that he did two years previous.  
   Then again, it wasn’t as if he had anyone to impress.  
   With no family living in close range, Haruka had become progressively more disassociated with everyday life. He had grown apart from Nagisa and Rei (they weren’t too close anyway), and Makoto was too far away now to just walk out with (despite Makoto promising he would always make time and was only a phone call away). Haruka was – inevitably – alone.  
   He wasn’t depressed, but was unquestionably on his way towards it; everything was becoming a drag. He wasn’t sleeping well, or eating well, and interacting with shop assistants or cashiers or his colleagues at work was becoming increasingly difficult (even though he wasn’t particularly good at it in the first place). The laundry wasn’t ever done, the bins were never put out and the dishes were never washed, let alone put away. But he didn’t really seem to notice.  
   He’d often just cook his mackerel and – much to the horror of many people – eat it off the same plate as the day previous. After work, he’d bathe, eat his mackerel, and then go out for a walk. Down the stairs, past Makoto’s old house, left towards the woods, and through to the bankside where a stream ran through. It was always peaceful and made Haruka relax.  
   Haruka would sit on a rocky bank and watch the fish battle the currents; watch the water trickle down and over the river plants and weave its way into the distance. The sunlight was barely there, but it would provide enough light to sit and read on the odd occasions Haruka bought a book, or to carve another wooden fish that he’d toss into the water. He’d lost count of how many times he’d done that. They didn’t have much meaning, but he would base it on the fish that was there in front of him on that particular day. It passed time.  
   They were lightweight, and small, about a palms width in length. They weren’t heavy enough to sink, so they’d float their way downstream, like a real fish. He didn’t know where they ended up, but he didn’t really care, either. He threw them into the water alongside his emotions for that day. Maybe someday, he’d find out where they went to, who found them, or even just at what place they got stuck or lost among the reeds. Did any of them ever make their way into the ocean, or did they all just get caught and die, along with those words in his throat every time he spoke to Makoto?  
   He didn’t love him, no, he was just upset that he couldn’t tell him he cared. Makoto did it all the time. Makoto always worried about Haruka, and Haruka was frustrated he couldn’t worry back, couldn’t talk Makoto’s stress away, couldn’t comfort him when the world came down around his shoulders. He couldn’t tell Makoto he missed him. That was why he started walking.

It didn’t make much sense, really. But then it did, at the same time. On one hand, he was often travelling further away from Makoto, making the tautness in his chest nearly snap, but then, the places, the destinations, the people, the memories, took his mind off Makoto, the man with the always-cheerful eyes, and the ever-there smile. It was enough to send poor Haruka’s mind to the brink and back. He’d grown up with the man, after all.  
   He was inspired by those wanders in the woodland, the fish battling their way upstream, and the sunlight trickling onto the Haruka-trodden grass by the rocky bankside. He wanted to go further than those woodlands could offer him. He wanted to see more of those fish, fighting against the water, and throw more wooden koi into rivers. He was just tied down by the finances, the money, and the terror of not being able to see Makoto.

   For now, Haruka would stay with the silence by the stream.


	2. Shadow of a Smile

It was one evening that Haruka had stayed late after work: a few of his work colleagues had invited him to some birthday party – having seen the state he was in, probably – and Haruka had, surprisingly, made the effort to go.  
   He finished cleaning the tanks, changed out of his wetsuit and into his T-shirt and shorts (jammers still on and damp underneath, obviously). It was summer, so Haruka decided he would walk; it was only twenty minutes or so, and he could drop his work bag off on the way there.  
   Walking out of the reception area, he nodded to the lady there, who smiled back warmly.  
   “I’ll see you later then, Haruka-chan?” Her name was Ayako-Chie. She would often bring Haruka warm cups of tea or coffee after his shifts, and was probably the closest he could ever get to calling one of his colleagues a friend, as such. She was quiet, like him, and had dark, warm eyes. You could say he enjoyed her company, but she was no more than a work colleague.  
   Haruka nodded again. He bowed slightly, before exiting the building. It was about five in the afternoon, so it was still bright and warm outside, and there was a lightness to the air. He turned left towards his home, and began to walk.  
   He’d never imagined that walking would relax him so much, back in high school. It wasn’t in the water, and if it wasn’t with Makoto, then why would it be any good? It was something about the rhythmic steps of his sneakers against the stone pavements that resonated with his heartbeat and made him feel at ease. Makoto always did that; his talking would provide a comfortable, safe little bubble that would make Haruka feel like it was the most relaxed place in the world. And beside Makoto, it probably was. But then, he wasn’t there anymore, was he?  
   That always happened. Haruka would find himself remembering all the things he’d done with Makoto, and then suddenly crash back into reality, bringing the memories with him. Everything would shatter against that pavement and only Haruka’s shadow would be left to pick up the pieces again. It was quite sad, really.  
   Haruka sighed, and stopped, shielding his eyes from the sun as he turned to look at Makoto’s old house. That was one of the problems: he lived so close to Makoto’s old home. Even his family didn’t live there anymore; they’d moved and downsized when he’d left for university. They’d been convinced Makoto and Haruka were dating, and had questioned why they hadn’t moved to Tokyo together. He remembered how awkward that conversation was.  
   Makoto had handled it surprisingly well, if you weren’t considering the blush that had stained his face the entire time. As always, he’d shaken his head and kept a cool exterior, but crushed the proposal nonetheless. Haruka wasn’t insulted; he knew what their friendship looked like to others.  
   Haruka turned back to the staircase and climbed it, heading for his house. He’d drop his bag off, freshen up a bit, and then see how long he could stand conversation for.

\---

The party wasn’t too great, but then, it wasn’t all bad, either. It was a reminder that people cared about him; many people had quietly spoken to him and asked what was wrong, had someone died? No, he was “just tired” or, “just stressed”. They’d look concerned, but they hadn’t pressed for answers, which Haruka was grateful for.  
  He’d been speaking to a Ayako-Chie most of the evening, and a couple of the males there had bought him drinks, (much to Haruka’s polite declining of their offers), but he drank them anyway. By the end of the evening, Haruka was looking a little more than worse for wear. He didn’t normally drink alcohol, but did have experience of it, and knew when he was reaching a bad state. He’d said goodbye to everybody at about nine o’clock, and began to make his way home. 

The first thing that surprised him was his phone. Just after he’d left the party, Haruka’s phone burst to life as the LED screen lit up with Makoto’s name, his ringtone echoing through the empty streets. Instantly, Haruka picked it up, worried something was wrong. Makoto rarely called.  
   “Haru?” Makoto sounded worried, almost scared about something.  
   “Makoto?” There was a pause.  
   “Why is your speech slurred? Have you been drinking?”  
   “I went out.” Haruka sighed.  
   “Oh that’s why you aren’t home.”  
   “Huh?”  
   “I’m at your house, are you going to be home soon? I tried calling you earlier but you didn’t pick up.” Haruka hadn’t looked at his phone all night, so Makoto might have tried to call him while he was still at the party.  
   “Yeah, I’m on my way now.”  
   “Okay. Can I let myself in? You left your back door unlocked again.”  
   “Go ahead.”  
   “See you in a bit then.” Haruka clicked the button to end the call. A notification instantly popped up displaying Makoto’s name alongside three missed calls. So he had rung him. Then he remembered the state of his house. Panicked, and not wanting Makoto to worry, he sent him a text.

   _To: Makoto  
__Subject: [None]  
_     _Message: Ignore the plates and stuff. I’ll explain later._

   Haruka got a reply almost instantly.

   _From: Makoto  
__Subject: Re: [None]  
__Message: Omg Haru, I’m cleaning up._

   Haruka kept walking.

\---

When he’d arrived home, Makoto was in Haruka’s bedroom, picking up the discarded clothes and throwing the dirty ones into the wash basket. He’d somehow managed to clean all the plates in the kitchen and throw the rubbish away from the lounge area before Haruka had got there, too.  
   “Are you okay, Haru?” Makoto had dropped the clothes and run to him instantly, standing facing him. Concern was etched across his face, and his smile was gone. Haruka knew he couldn’t lie to this man, not now, anyway.  
   “We should talk.” Haruka looked away. Makoto made a whimpering noise, and turned to walk to the living room. Haruka followed, and the two stopped to sit on the futons. They kneeled opposite one another, Haruka staring at the dusty floor. He hadn’t cleaned in weeks. Makoto broke the silence, one hand pushing back his fringe to look at Haruka quietly, knowing.  
   “You look…” Makoto swallowed. “Bad.” Haruka should have made some tea. It would have given him something to look at.  
   “I told you, I went out.”  
   “But your house, too.” There was a long pause.  
   “I miss you.” Haruka looked down. Makoto choked a little.  
   “I miss you too, Haru-chan,” Haruka didn’t scold him for the –chan, so he knew it was serious. “That was difficult to say, wasn’t it?”  
   “Shut up.” Makoto pulled him into a hug, resting his chin on Haruka’s head. Haruka wiped a tear from his eye, and nuzzled into the man’s large chest, listening to his rhythmic breathing.  
   “But you don’t understand,” Haruka suddenly spoke. Neither knew what to say or do for a while, but it was Makoto that spoke again. They broke apart.  
   “You could come and stay wi-”  
   “You know I couldn’t.”  
   “I’ll come and visit more often. I’ll ask my professors for study leave-”  
   “Makoto.”  
   “I’m sorry. I just… you’re…”  
   “I’ll make tea.” Haruka rose to make the tea, wiping another tear away from his eye.  
   “No, Haru,” Makoto grabbed his hand, suddenly, and pulled him towards himself. “I hurt too.” He was starting to cry now. Haruka kneeled again.  
   “I-”  
   “Haru, I can’t learn anything knowing you’re in pain like this.” Haruka swallowed.  
   “I care about you,” He began, “a lot.” There was a pause.  
   “I care about you,” Haruka said again, “and I want you to do well.”  
   “But I want you to be happy again.” Makoto looked down. Haruka leant forward, and pressed a kiss to his lips, pulling back as soon as he’d done it. The other man flinched, and his eyes shot open, Haruka did the same.  
   “I’m sorry I-” He began, covering his mouth, eyes wide. It was just a peck, but he probably just gave Makoto the wrong idea completely.  
   “Do you…” Makoto said, voice hushed.  
   “Not, like… oh my god…” Haruka was blushing now. Makoto hugged him again, rubbing small circles on Haruka’s back.  
   “Me neither. It was just a small kiss; female friends do it all the time. Forget about it, I understand what you mean.” Makoto was almost whispering now. “I care about you too, I want you to be happy.”  
   “I want to be happy, too.” Haruka was sobbing quietly. “Stay here for a while.”  
   “I have all weekend.”  
   “I want to show you somewhere.”  
   “Okay.” Makoto pulled away from Haruka. And for once in a long few months, Haruka thought he could feel the shadow of a smile on his face.


	3. Streams and Water Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Gahhh, I'm so sorry it's so late, I'm such a butt ｡･ﾟヾ(✦థ ｪ థ)ﾉ｡ﾟ･  
> I really want to start doing one update per day, but I'm not entirely sure how well that's going to play out; I have school starting next week and lots of big exams to prepare for, so this story may or may not be put on hold until that's over (but I really doubt it because I actually want to write and know what's going to happen so shh don't worry). ( ´ ▽ ` )  
> Anyway, I hope everybody's enjoying it so far, and I hope to update soon!
> 
> -FA

Haruka hadn’t cried in a long while, and when he’d done it the previous day, it was such a relief. With Makoto there, he felt he was allowed to cry, to let everything out and fall away. Those green eyes were filled with kindness and understanding, a little beam of light in Haruka’s otherwise shadowed landscape.  
   Makoto had slept in Haruka’s bed with him that evening. It was normal for them, of course, but the bed that he had felt was cold and empty, once again felt warm, and secure. Maybe it was just because of how much bigger they were now.  
   Makoto had really filled out, not that he was skinny in high school. He was still all muscle, but his shoulders had got broader, and his back was certainly still the point that made all the girls swoon. His forearms were a little bit bigger, and his torso was tighter, harder, somehow. He’d gone to university to study marine biology, but also worked as a carrier in a convenience store near to his university in his spare time. It was another income alongside what his family sent him, so he’d never really struggled with finances, but he wasn’t exactly loaded, either. Nevertheless, he could afford to visit Haruka often, it was just the time.  
   Nothing had changed between them. Why would it? Nothing had ever ruined their friendship before, so why would it now? Nevertheless, if something had changed, Haruka liked it.  
   He hadn’t slept much, still, but Haruka didn’t mind, knowing that – at least – Makoto knew how he felt. The next problem was the one that kept him awake; what was he doing with his life? He had a job, yes, but was it really something he wanted to continue doing for the rest of his existence?  
   In high school, Haruka was constantly pressed for an answer to what he wanted to do, career wise. He’d never known, and still didn’t. He was only working now because he had to, to earn money, to live, to see Makoto. He’d never wanted to do anything but be in the water he loved so much, but when school ended, he could no longer swim at Iwatobi, and there wasn’t a pool at the gym, so he could only swim in the summer. So, eventually, Haruka had started to neglect swimming. He couldn't swim alone, anyway. And if Makoto wasn’t there to pull him out, what was the point? He missed him. 

In the morning, Haruka woke as normal to bathe. He’d filled the tub, and got in, jammers still on, and the water a little colder than most people’s baths, but it wasn’t like he noticed. It was water. It still soothed him, and it still gave the same silky glide over his skin that it always did.  
   Haruka flicked the plastic dolphin floating alongside him, and sunk down below the water, bright blue eyes sparkling just above the surface. Makoto would come and pull him out in a minute, and ruin the quietness. The dark black strands of Haruka’s hair wavered around him in the water, feeling out the space and softness, comfortable in the water’s body. He’d never admit it, but Haruka was proud of his hair. He’d always taken pride in how it looked.  
   He blew some bubbles below the surface, before dipping down and under completely. The water rippled in response, curving and bending around his body to fit. This is what he loved, the eerie darkness in his ears, just listening to the water: the slow ringing, echoing.  
   Makoto pulled him from the tub after that, his smile still as warm and tender-hearted as ever. If he had that expression on his face, Haruka didn’t mind being drawn from the water so much. After all, Haruka would only do this a couple more times before having to wait a long, long while. It was sweet, going back to an old routine. It bought memories back, and the emotions attached to them, too. 

They’d eaten breakfast like back in the old days, with Haruka cooking the mackerel in his jammers and apron. This time though, it had more meaning. The two men savoured it, just as much as the food put on the table. Haruka was an excellent cook, and Makoto told him so, even if it was just fish.  
   Makoto had cleared away, Haruka having said to just leave it on the side. If he could help it, Makoto wasn’t going to let Haruka run away with himself, and fall into that dark pit he was so, so close to already.  Even if it was such a small gesture, he really didn’t mind clearing away as much as he could while he was there.  
   They were out the door barely an hour after breakfast had begun, Haruka almost rushing to get to the stream. They bought lunch from the nearest store to bring with them, Haruka also taking wood and his carving knife with him from home. Sneakers tapped, hands brushed and everything in the world was okay again.  
   Makoto was back to his normal self again, bubbling away with everything and nothing, just filling time and creating that perfect little bubble around the two once more. If Haruka hadn’t missed these walks, he would either have to be out of his mind, or dead, but probably not even then.  
   They’d stopped mid-staircase to pet a cat, a white one that seemed to know Makoto well, and it took an instant liking to Haruka. It brushed itself up against his legs, sniffing and purring at his ankles. All while Makoto just looked at him, smiling with those god damned eyes. 

They’d reached the woods and then finally the stream in no more than forty-five minutes, much longer than it normally took just Haruka, but he couldn’t have cared any less with Makoto by his side. They crossed a fallen tree, and Haruka took his normal spot on the rocks. Makoto joined him.  
   “This is where you wanted to show me?” Haruka nodded. Makoto smiled, and then sighed.  
   “It’s beautiful,” Makoto whispered. “Do you stay here a lot?” Haruka paused, and then nodded again. He looked down into the stream, studying its surface, and began to carve. Intrigued, Makoto sat next to Haruka, and watched. They sat there for a while, just in a comfortable silence, listening to the world go about its business around them. Nobody ever came by here.  
   “What do you do with them?” Makoto nodded towards the wooden fish.  
   “Throw them into the water.” Haruka carried on carving. There was a long pause.  
   “I think we should do something else with it,” Makoto finished the bottle of water he was drinking and gave it to Haruka. He stared at it for a moment, before taking it. “Peel the label off, we could put your fish and a note in the bottle and send it down the stream. Someone in the world might find it.” Haruka snorted quietly, half-smiling, and blew on the fish to remove any of the dust.  
   “It’s just going to get stuck,” He mused. “And caught in the weeds.”  
   “But just imagine it gets to somewhere other than the riverbed.” Makoto smiled. “What if it reaches someone in another country?”  
   “I doubt they could read kanji.” Haruka said, but slotted the fish into the bottle nonetheless. Makoto dug around in his bag for a pen and some scrap paper.  
   “What should we write?” Makoto said, pulling an old paper chocolate bar wrapper from his bag, a pen falling to the rocks beside him shortly after. He picked it up. “We could tell them about ourselves, and the fish. We could name the fish!”  
   “Water.” Haruka said.  
   “Huh?”  
   “Water. Call the fish Water.”  
   “Haru, you can’t call a fish Water.”  
   “You said we should name it.” Makoto sighed in defeat, and started to write on the back of the wrapper. Makoto was squinting a bit, obviously because he didn’t have his glasses on or contacts in and couldn’t see very well, and paused.

    _Hello, we’re glad you found this bottle.  
__Our names are Nanase Haruka, and Tachibana Makoto, and we’re both boys with girly names. Haruka has very pretty black hair and blue eyes like water, and I have brown hair and green eyes. We live in Japan and Haruka made this fish while we sat by a stream. It’s a replica of the fish in front of us right now, Haruka wants to call it Water._

   “What now?” Makoto handed Haruka the note. Haruka read it, and then began to write

    _Hello, we’re glad you found this bottle.  
__Our names are Nanase Haruka, and Tachibana Makoto, and we’re both boys with girly names. Haruka has ~~very pretty~~ black hair and blue eyes like water, and I have brown hair and green eyes. We live in Japan and Haruka made this fish while we sat by a stream. It’s a replica of the fish in front of us right now, Haruka wants to call it Water._ _The water is alive._

   Haruka simply added.  
   “Haru!” Makoto cried, looking miserable. “That makes me sound weird.”  
   “It’s true.”  
   “What’s true?”  
   “Both. The water is alive, and you’re weird.”  
   “Wah, you’re so mean, Haru! And your hair is pretty.” Haruka paused.  
   “Thanks.” 

They went home that evening, having spent the whole day just talking by the stream and walking around the woodlands. It was peaceful, a change, a nice change. The evening was warm and light, so they walked home the long route, down past the beach.  
   “Do you swim here by yourself, Haru?” Makoto had asked.  
   “Sometimes, in the summer.” There was silence.  
   “You know I have a pool in Tokyo. I mean, it’s not mine, but our dorm building has a shared racing pool, just like the one back in high school.” He paused. “You should come back with me and we could swim together again, for old time’s sake.”  
   “I have to work, you know that.”  Makoto paused again, and then sighed.  
   “I do too. But think about it, if you ever need somewhere to stay, you can come and stay with me for a while, and there’s a pool, so you could swim, too.” He smiled. “You know you’re always welcome, and I miss your company.” Haruka snorted quietly.  
   “Don’t get all sappy on me.” He looked at Makoto, and instantly broke into a smile. He laughed quietly, “I think… that would be nice. There was another pause.  
   “Thank you.”


	4. Collapse of a Watery Galaxy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Oh my. I’m so sorry. This is so, so late and I’m extremely sorry.  
> I hope everybody is enjoying the fanfiction so far and you can accept my totally-not-acceptable lame excuses for being so horrifically late with posting. I have loads of work piled on me at the moment and exam preparations, but I’m determined to finish this by the next couple of weeks.  
> Let’s do this.
> 
> -FA.

Makoto left late Sunday night, said he needed to get back for his early morning classes. Haruka didn’t stop him. The weekend they had spent together had been memorable and sweet, reminiscing on past memories and even re-creating a few, to some degree anyway. Haruka enjoyed it, and he was happy again. Makoto understood him, finally, and he understood Makoto, too.  
   They had spoken together about Haruka’s future: Haruka had asked if they could. Makoto knew what he wanted to do in life, so why could he not help Haruka with what he wanted? It was difficult, as Makoto didn’t want to simply dictate, but they understood and listened to each other, nonetheless. It wasn’t a heavy or unwanted conversation, it was rather light, actually, and they were sitting by the stream when it happened.  
   Haruka had said he wanted to be free, (something he had always told his friends in high school, and they all simply rolled their eyes and chuckled; it was so typically him), but from what Haruka knew, no job of his would ever allow him to do that. He couldn’t make money from the water. But then, Makoto had an idea.  
    _“What if you became an illustrator, Haru? What if you travelled the world and drew the water, and you were free that way?”_ It seemed a completely ludicrous and unplanned idea at that moment when he’d suggested it, but then, Haruka realised it may actually be a good one. He was a brilliant artist and actually, he enjoyed it.  Drawing really did calm him down and take his mind off of things, for a while anyway.  
   Makoto had always loved to watch Haruka draw and had praised each and every one of the pieces that Haruka had shown him, honestly and completely blown away by the quality of it. Haruka had never really thought much about a career in art, but maybe, it was worth a try.  
    _“You could start an art blog, you know. Travel around, photograph and draw places.”_ The more Haruka thought about it, the more he liked the idea. Travelling. Yes, he liked the idea of that: getting to see and to feel all of the world’s water that he possibly could, trying the different beaches and maybe, just maybe, taste some of the world’s fish.  
   He’d travelled abroad once on a joint holiday between Makoto’s family and his when they were little. He couldn’t remember where exactly, but it was hot, and he loved spending time with everybody on the beaches and in the foreign seas that seemed to have a completely different feel to the water, a different voice that lulled him. 

The second surprise came when Haruka entered the aquarium for work on Monday. It was slightly overcast and breezy, so he hung the jacket he was wearing on one of the pegs in the staff room, dropping his bag into one of the pigeon boxes meant for staff belongings, and drawing his wetsuit from it. Ayako-Chie was the first one to greet him, tea cup in hand. She offered it to him.  
   “Morning, Haruka-chan.” She said, smiling warmly. Haruka accepted the tea with a thanks.  
   “Morning,” He bowed, “How are you?” Haruka thought he saw her falter for a second.  
   “Um, good, thank you.” She paused. “We’ve got a meeting today, the aquarium is closed, so you won’t need to change into that just yet.” There was concern etched onto her face.  
   “Oh?” There was a long pause. Ayako-Chie looked away, and frowned.  
   “I have a fair idea of what’s happening, but it’s probably best for you to find out at the same time that the other employees do, as well.” Haruka took a sip from his tea, thinking.  
   “Alright.” He looked down. “When is it?”  
   “9 o’clock, in here.” She looked back up to Haruka again. It clearly wasn’t good news.  
   “Okay.” It was just gone 7:25am, meaning there was still about two hours before the meeting.  It wasn’t enough time to get changed, clean a tank, shower and then get changed again, and Haruka was unsure of what to do. Ayako-Chie clearly understood Haruka’s train of thought.  
   “Well, seeing as we won’t be working until after the meeting, we could go out somewhere.” She smiled, and then realised what she’d said. “I meant- No, no… as friends, just friends… We could go somewhere like… I didn’t mean like, on a date…” Ayako-Chie began to get flustered.  
   “It’s fine,” Haruka almost chuckled. “I’m not looking for a relationship at the moment, anyway.” Ayako-Chie looked almost relieved. She was aware that Haruka wasn’t completely interested in girls, anyhow, but was clearly worried about appearing too interested. She paused.  
   “There’s this book shop I visit often, it has a café in the centre of it,” She smiled, just the hint of a blush creeping into her ears. “It’s a nice place, the people are really very kind there.”  
   “Okay.” Haruka looked away for a moment. “We could invite some of the others if you feel uncomfortable, being just me and you, I mean.” Ayako-Chie nodded, and bowed slightly as she ran off to find some people to come with them. It wasn’t really what Haruka wanted, but he preferred it to an awkward, stiff atmosphere. 

The book shop really was very quaint. The tables were a simple wooden structure designed with scrolls etched into the corners and straight, modern legs. It was warm and surprisingly easier to socialise than at the party. The atmosphere wasn’t so suffocating or forced.  
   There were about five of them in all, one person joining to make six about half way through the event. One of the men was an aquarium keeper, and looked after some of the sharks: whale sharks, to be precise.  He was tall, much taller than any of the other people in their workplace, with dark black hair and teal-blue eyes that sloped at the edges, making him look almost sleepy. Then there was an overly enthusiastic redhead, fascinated with beetles, and looked after the otters, and a shorter, much calmer boy. He had unnaturally grey hair, partnered with pale blue eyes and a beauty mark just beneath his right eye. He looked after the smaller animals like the ducks in the children’s area of the aquarium.  
   Haruka more often than not would speak to the taller male; the redhead and the grey-haired boy would balance each other out in discussion, so he and Haruka were often together at times like this. Ayako-Chie did speak to him, (she and Haruka spoke for about an hour overall), but after then, she went off to talk to the other female co-workers. He didn’t mind, he was off work for a while. Well at least, he thought it was just for a while. 

The meeting started promptly, and as soon as everyone was seated, it was very apparent that the news was big, and it wasn’t good at all. The aquarium’s director – Mr Goro Sasabe – had unease imprinted into his face, dark bags under his normally joyful eyes. His shirt had changed from the usual Hawaiian print to a pretty standard work shirt, hair scruffily brushed back into some sort of an undercut, and something – Haruka guessed stress – was making him shiver with nervousness.  
   “Thank you for coming,” He bowed, “I’m not really sure how to start the news off, actually.” He paused for a moment, and sighed heavily, scratching the back of his neck.  
   “As you’re all aware, the aquarium has never really been a bustling or busy place, let alone filled with tourists, and we’ve always struggled quite a bit with the funding.” He sniffed and exhaled slowly. “And over recent months I’ve been forced to cut both budgets and staff, which I know you were all upset about to a great degree.” It finally settled in. Haruka almost stood up and left at that particular moment. He wouldn’t be there much longer anyway.  
   “It is with great sadness that I’m going to be closing down the aquarium for good-” Goro started to speak again.  
   “No, no no _no_.” The redhead stood from his seat. “We _can’t_. What about the animals? Where will they go?” He looked almost close to tears.  
   “It’s already been organised, they’ll be moved to the next town. The transportation begins on Friday. I’m so, so sorry, everybody.” Sasabe looked down at his feet, shuffling. “The aquarium was one of the few things I took pride in, and it’s been an extremely difficult decision to move on from it. I understand it was many of your main incomes and I really can’t apologise enough, but we just didn’t have the funding to keep it open.” The redhead was crying now, the shorter, grey haired boy beside him trying in vain to comfort him. There was a stunned silence.  
   “You may continue to work until Friday afternoon, when I’d appreciate some helping hands to say goodbye to the animals, and I’ll give you all your last paycheques then. I’m so sorry this has happened to all of you, I really am. I know you’ve all grown very fond of the animals here.” The dark haired male next to Haruka groaned, his head in his hands.  
   “You are dismissed.”

 --- 

“Oh _God_ , Haru, I’m so sorry.”  
   “Well it’s not your fault, is it?” There was a pause on the end of the phone, a faint meowing in the background. Probably one of Makoto’s cats.  
   “Do you need some money? You could come and stay with me for as long as you need to, I’ll move some stuff around, there’s plenty of room for you.”  
   “I have enough for the moment, but thank you.” Haruka listened to the static in the receiver. “I just need to find another job.”  
   “But really, Haru, you know you can come if you need to. I’m sure there’s work for you at my shop.” Haruka paused.  
   “Thank you, Makoto. But I’ll stay here for the moment. I’ll bear your offer in mind.” The conversation really was going nowhere. Haruka had phoned Makoto later that evening, around nine to make sure he was home from work, but it had taken him nearly half an hour to even bring the subject up. Makoto had done it in the end, by accident of course, just asking how work was. It was a bit of an easy opening, really.  
   Haruka had really considered actually calling Makoto. He knew that the other male would feel pressured to let him move to Tokyo with him, and that wasn’t what Haruka was calling for. He wanted to talk about his career, not his financial stability or where he was to live.  
   “Makoto?”  
   “Yes, Haru?”  
   “Can you help me start a blog?”


	5. Races and Kittens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I’m on a roll! Aiming for two chapters to be finished in one night… let’s do this! (」゜ロ゜)」
> 
> -FA

It took a few hours to drive to Tokyo, but the train was faster, and probably cheaper, anyway, so he went with that option. Not that he owned a car anyway. He only had an old motor scooter. His Dad had left him it: he never really saw much of his parents, and didn’t really have a lot of contact with them either, so when they moved to another part of Japan without even so much as prior warning, Haruka could only watch them go.  
   He knew the route well; he’d travelled to and stayed at Makoto’s one-bedroom flat more than a few times, and the trains ran practically right up to his dorm room building (well, a five minute walk from them, anyway), so with a bag stuffed with overnight things and – lest he forget it – his precious mackerel and old swimming jammers, he departed from Iwatobi station and left for Tokyo.  
   The train ride was uneventful, as it always was. People came and went, one lady asked him for the time, and the carriage master asked him if he wanted to buy a tea or coffee an excessive amount of times. It was always the same, but then, that meant it had character to it. Consistency was always something Haruka was rather fond of: change disrupted his plans and startled him to a level of which he felt wholly uncomfortable on. That was always where Makoto would step in.  
   The sun was setting and threatened to completely disappear by the time Haruka stepped off the train, overnight bag still in hand. It was humid and – the one thing he hated about places like this – extremely full and busy. People bumped into him and rushed past, and Haruka could have sworn somebody was staring at him for a straight two minutes.  It was extremely unsettling.  
   He walked quietly, a steady rhythm to his steps. Makoto texted him to see if he was on his way, but he ignored it, seeing as he was so close to the flats anyway. The building revealed itself from behind a Sakura tree (frighteningly similar to the one from Iwatobi Elementary School) and Haruka once more found himself standing at the school’s dorm reception desk. Makoto would have put his name on the guest list beforehand, and the receptionist recognised him, so she allowed Haruka straight into the hallways with a polite smile. He knew where he was headed: up two flights of stairs and six rows down to the end of the left-most corridor, Makoto’s flat was there, as it always was. The door was unhooked, obviously so Haruka could let himself in.  
   The first of three rooms doubled as an eating and living area, the kotatsu in the centre with a small vase of flowers upon it, a cat curled half beneath the blanket and dozing peacefully. There was an old rug in the middle of the floor, square and quite fluffy, with an old TV at one end of the room and a sofa at the other. There was a window on the far side, looking out across the city, the bedroom on the left, and kitchen on the right of it.  
   Haruka could hear the shower running, so walked into the bedroom and dumped his bag on the bed, shouting a greeting to the en suite where Makoto shouted something back. He padded back into the living area, sitting beside the cat, and began to pet it gently. He was never an animal lover, or so he told himself, but he did have a bit of a soft spot for them, and cats seemed to take a liking to Haruka a lot of the time. They did share the same interest in fish, he guessed.  
   The tabby cat began to purr, and arched its back into a stretch from beneath the blanket as Haruka carefully ran a hand over its spine. Almost instantly, the cat began to rub itself up against Haruka’s knee, begging for more attention. He didn’t mind. They were quite cute, actually. 

When Makoto emerged into the room about ten minutes later, Haruka was on his back, sprawled out like a starfish with all three of Makoto’s cats either on him or licking him. It really was quite a sight. The shorter man wasn’t really doing much except still stroking the tabby cat on his stomach, as a ginger cat and black and white patchy kitten licked at either his face or other hand.  
   “I never thought you like animals _that_ much, Haru.” Makoto chuckled, sitting down under the kotatsu and stroking the ginger cat that trotted over to him.  
   “I don’t, they like _me_.” Haruka snorted, sitting up, trying not to disturb the cat on his stomach. Makoto was dressed in a pair of black cotton shorts and a T-shirt, slung over wet hair and glasses: the normal gaming outfit. His hair seemed to be going absolutely everywhere but in the right place.  
   “You wanna play something?” Makoto questioned. “I’ve still got that old racing game we used to play back in high school.” Haruka shrugged, eyes meeting Makoto’s.  
   “Sure.” The taller male smiled cheerily, getting up to slot the disc into the console beside the TV. Unravelling the controllers and handing one to Haruka, the two seated themselves in front of the screen as Makoto flicked through the starting menus.  
   “How long are you staying?” Makoto asked. He didn’t mind, really, he just needed to know.  
   “All weekend, if I can.”  
   “You don’t mind me going off to work for a few hours tomorrow morning? My shift finishes at eleven-thirty, so I can make it back for lunch.” Makoto squinted, focussing as the music signalled the start of the game. A few beeps from the speakers told him they had begun.  
   “Don’t mind.” Haruka was already winning.  
   “Okay.” Makoto hummed, tongue poking out of his mouth as he concentrated, and crashed on the first corner.  
   “You’re still terrible at this.” Haruka sped around the second corner just as Makoto began to restart.  
   “You’ve got so much more coordination, Haru!” Makoto cried as he crashed on the second corner this time.  
   “Mm.” Haruka hummed. 

The late afternoon graduated into evening and, “Makoto’s treat”, they ordered a takeaway. It was nice, just to be able to hang out like normal teenagers, Makoto not having to worry about his school work. They had decided that Haruka would come over on the Friday night of his last few hours at work, and Makoto (if Haruka still wanted to) would help him begin a blog.  
   Neither of the two were particularly good at web design, but with Haruka being an artist and Makoto knowing a little bit about coding, they figured it would work out fine. Either that, or they would just end up failing, but it would be a laugh anyway.  
   After eating, they decided to settle down and watch some form of movie that Makoto was interested in (a K-Drama, maybe?) and failed miserably, Haruka being attacked fifteen minutes in and then deciding that drawing his attacker was a better idea than paying attention to the screen. Makoto didn’t mind, he’d seen the film before, and Haruka’s art was more interesting anyway.  
   He had always had long and slender fingers, perfect for swimming, but also perfect to hold a pencil and scrawl his imagination onto paper, it seemed. The kitten lay down on the arm of the sofa and Haruka began his sketch, tracing out the animal’s shape and concentrating on the delicacy of its features. It was really sweet.  
   Makoto sneezed rather loudly as Haruka was beginning to finish the artwork, startling both his friend and the kitten, laying asleep. The poor thing nearly fell off the sofa in fright, and Haruka, for that matter, well.  
   “ _Really_?” Haruka glared, and Makoto burst into fits of laughter.  
   “What?” He wheezed out.  
   “You couldn’t have held it?”  
   “And you couldn’t draw faster?” Haruka’s eyes narrowed even more, making Makoto laugh again.  
   It would be fair to say that neither of them finished watching the film. And neither cared, either.


	6. The Coding of a Career

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: *Laughing nervously* I'm not even going to bother and try and make excuses for how late this is. This is becoming a routine pff it's like a bad habit. Lets hope and pray I can get this finished within the next month or so, or is that too long a time period? This fanfiction is becoming a lot longer than I first expected it to be but come on, what can I say? I have a lot to write and I keep coming up with new ideas. Shh shh, hush, don't blame me (I'm so sorry).
> 
> My big GCSE exams are very quickly creeping up on me and I'll have a period of time to revise for them, meaning I won't be writing much or even at all in those couple of weeks to help me get through the revision. I hope you guys can forgive me for the inactivity in that period (but I really doubt you'll notice, seeing how late it is that I normally update nowadays).
> 
> I hope you guys are enjoying what I've written so far and will continue to write, and that maybe someday I'll actually plough through and get this trainwreck finished for the best of us all. (It's really paining me, I promise.)  
> -FA

Haruka woke up the following morning wrapped up in Makoto’s duvet, the black and white kitten from the night previous curled up beneath the fabric beside him, arched against his stomach. Makoto would have gone off to work earlier, and, being a Saturday, this was Haruka’s day off from an early-morning run. He curled up underneath the duvet again.  
   It smelt like Makoto and his soap, clean and sweet. It was comforting, and bought back memories of when they used to do this as children. Living so close together, it was a regular occurrence for the two of them to stay with each other every few nights. They would share a futon and quite often Haruka would end up wearing Makoto’s (oversized) shirts when he spilt something down his own, so he was used to the smell of Makoto and his belongings.  
   Noticing it was mid-morning, Haruka decided to grab his jammers and make his way to the pool, as Makoto had suggested back in Iwatobi. That way, he wouldn’t have to deal with taming his hair until after it was wet (a much easier job). But first? Mackerel. He couldn’t miss his mackerel. With a yawn, Haruka stretched and landed his socked feet onto the wooden panels, and padded quietly into the bathroom where his overnight bag was. He pulled out the black and purple material, slipping out of his boxers and sleep shirt and into the jammers, before discarding the old clothing back into his bag. Perfect.  
   The kitchen was warm, the sun having thawed the cold, kitchen floor by early morning. There was a note taped onto the fridge door, scrawled in Makoto’s annoyingly neat hand writing.

_Be back at about 12:00, help yourself to whatever you can find, or that mackerel you bought with you… ?? The pool gate key is on the kotatsu, if you want to go swimming. You know guests aren’t supposed to use the pool, so be careful. See you later!_

   ‘Be careful’. That was so typically Makoto. Haruka scribbled on what space there was left on the paper.

    _Gone Free.  
__Back for lunch._

 

Although Haruka had been to Makoto’s flat countless times and spent weekends there, Makoto had never actually let his friend down to the pool area (knowing he would strip as soon as he saw the water), let alone lend him the facilities’ key, even less so while Makoto wasn’t there with him to supervise. Haruka guessed it was because of the strict rules there, and, Makoto being a worry-pot all of the time, he understood. So Haruka would be careful.  
   He swam for about an hour and a half, interchanging from freestyle (obviously) to just floating around. It was possibly the most relaxed he’d been in a long few months; just being surrounded by the water. There was only a couple of other swimmers in the pool, but they came and went within half an hour or so, and were probably – Haruka guessed – just doing it for the exercise, not for pleasure or training for a race.  
   Swimming always made Haruka’s body shiver with anticipation, and he loved the way the water snaked and swallowed itself around his body, moving to make a space and glide over his skin in silky, fluent curves. He’d always loved the way that swimming allowed him to just move in the water, allowed Haruka to be engulfed by a wet silence. It was comforting. Pools were always so much easier and cleaner to swim in than the sea, and he preferred it because of such, but Haruka did feel limited to the space within them.  
   Makoto’s university had a small exterior pool, but it was probably only just smaller than the one back at Iwatobi High, and was definitely not designed for practicing racing. Haruka wondered if the university had ever considered a swim team, or was it too academia-based for that? He’d noticed a small football pitch and track on his way down to the pool, but nobody was playing on it and there were no other obvious sports facilities nearby on campus. Why did it bother him so much?  
   His stomach was growling. Haruka had forgotten all about the mackerel this morning as soon as he’d realised there was a key to a pool. A pool he could swim in. A pool he was allowed entry to. The pool was all he was worried about, and had decided it was too late in the morning for a decent breakfast anyway. He realised that was a mistake now, judging by the way his stomach was growling irritably at him.  
   Finishing his last lap, Haruka came up for air at the end of his streak and hauled himself from the water. Makoto would be home soon. 

\--- 

After a lunch of – surprise, surprise – grilled mackerel and pineapple, Makoto sat Haruka down at the kotatsu with his laptop. The blinds were pushed up from the floor-length window at the end of the room, Tokyo’s skyscrapers towering beside the comparatively tiny flat block and early afternoon warmth staining the dorm’s interior a golden colour. There was a view of the train station from this window, the tracks running like wires through the city. It was nice.  
   Makoto had been working on the coding for about an hour already and the page was beginning to spring to life, Haruka’s artistic side aiding the visuals. They didn’t talk much, except from Haruka’s occasional question or suggestive input, and it was him who made tea for them both. He brought it back to the kotatsu, handing a teacup to Makoto for him to drink.  
   “Thank you,” He smiled warmly, before continuing with his work. “Haru?”  
   “Mm?”  
   “I know this is going to sound negative,” Makoto paused, choosing his words. “But if you want to stay healthy and live a sustainable life, at least for a while, this isn’t going to be enough.” Makoto cast his eyes away. Haruka took to staring at the trains passing by outside.  
   “What I mean is, you’ll probably need another job too, maybe for only just a while, but I doubt this is going to be a massive source of income.” Haruka understood. “If you want, tomorrow I can help you look in Tokyo, and we could organise for you to stay with me for a bit.” There was a silence.  
   “Haruka?” He’d obviously paused for too long. More silence. Makoto seemed to stare at him. “Are you alright?”  
   “I’m fine.” Haruka looked back at Makoto. “I’ll find another job, too. Maybe here, maybe at home.”  
   “That sounds like a good idea.” Makoto looked back at the laptop, typing quickly. “We’ll make this your little side-trade then. It should earn a little bit of money even when you’re not online.” Haruka nodded with a quiet noise of appreciation. There was a pause, and his lips crept into a smile.  
   “Help me search tomorrow?” 

\---

 Two hours went by, and Haruka’s first blog was finally finished. It wasn’t perfect – far from it – and was pretty basic as far as they go, but Haruka vowed he would try and learn a little more about coding to finish it off, if he could. He had time, which was a luxury Makoto couldn’t afford, and wanted to make it look better anyway. The extent of their knowledge limited that.  
   There were adverts dotted around the page, pulling in small amounts of money just from the traffic the blog collected, but it was nowhere near enough to make a reasonable profit from, let alone live a maintained or safe lifestyle. With a bit of luck, Haruka’s blog would pick up and he would be able to make more money out of it, but for the moment he was happy that they’d even got this far.  
   “We should write your first entry.” Makoto smiled, pleased with his work.  
   “Mm.” Haruka nodded.  
   Their first entry was finished closer to thirty minutes than ten, and afterward, Haruka took it upon himself to make the dinner. Makoto didn’t mind, it kept Haruka busy and after all, he was an amazing cook. He made Okonomiyaki with noodles, making grilled pork and fish for the pancake fillings. He laid the table, and they ate in near silence, Makoto making small noises of thanks and praise in Haruka’s direction. The food was lovely.  
   The evening passed quickly and finished in the way they would have loved as children; video games, and Haruka (unsurprisingly) winning with a modest grin of satisfaction shot Makoto’s way. It wasn’t their usual racing game for once, but the one thing that was racing was the time against them, and Haruka knew he would lose that game.


	7. Keep Me Close

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Two chapters uploaded in one day? What?
> 
> Yeah so whatever, I’m procrastinating from doing my homework and for once I actually finished the chapter the same day I started it. Let alone managed to upload it the same day as the previous chapter, and on the day I wrote it. Hallelujah. What a miracle.
> 
> I know, I’m great, aren’t I?
> 
> Also, sorry for the time skip (you’ll understand when you read it), but otherwise it was going to make the fanfiction wholly unrealistic or just super-duper long, and I don’t think I could deal with the latter. I’m struggling as it is gahhhhh I’m so weak. How do people write novels omg. TT_TT
> 
> I hope you can excuse the masses of mistakes and horrific writing.  
> -FA

Six months on, Haruka and Makoto were living together. While Makoto was at university, Haruka worked at the local public pool as a lifeguard for a small income to help pay for the bills. He’d also taken up competitive swimming again, being coached by the head of one of Tokyo’s highly regarded swim teams, which was getting better.  
   Living so closely together had bought the two boys back to their older days, and had really pulled Haruka up out of the shadows. During Makoto’s summer break, the two had spent weekends together at the public pools and even entered a few of galas. It was at one of the larger events that Haruka had been scouted, and picked up swimming for a small team again.  
   He always declined the ‘team events’ with a polite smile, refusing to replace his old teammates, which almost brought Makoto to tears the first time Haruka told him. The coach had been understanding, and quite confused at his dismissal, but understood nonetheless. He was happy to have Haruka swimming freestyle for the team. He always won for them, anyway.  
   From one of the team’s tournaments after that, Haruka was picked up again by a considerably larger team, and from them, to another, and another, and another after that. Six months from the start of his blog, it was thriving with twice-weekly updates of his progress, and more and more city teams were beginning to notice the cool-faced swimming natural that was Haruka Nanase.  
   In those six months, he’d blown easily through five teams, scaling up the game board each time, and he dropped the lifeguard job as soon as he’d made it into his fourth team, being paid enough to live a good lifestyle. It was now that he was competing for Tokyo at country-wide tournaments. Of course he attracted a lot of attention, and henceforth did his blog. 

Haruka’s blog had been carefully sculpted into a slightly more complex design, and included updates of his photos, swimming times and tournaments he attended. A minor sportswear company had contacted Haruka when he’d joined Tokyo’s teen team, asking to sponsor him if he used their sportswear on his blog. Of course, he agreed, and that was where he was now.  
   Makoto had been over the moon for Haruka, and of course, Haruka was happy too, but it wasn’t really the same as the older days back in high school. He missed swimming with the people he’d grown up with and cared about, even though he loved being in the water so much. It wasn’t exactly the same, but both he and Makoto knew he would never replace his old team, and they were both content with that. It was making a living for both Haruka and Makoto, and the pressure of finances was finally lifted from them both.  
   It was obvious that Makoto would be hesitant to allow Haruka to fund the majority of their living, but he understood it was much easier for Haruka to work one job and finance them both without Makoto working himself to death. Makoto still did his small part-time at the local shop, but dropped a lot of the hours and only worked to pay for the food every week. Haruka paid for the rest.  
   They’d swapped the double bed for two singles, which was a much better decision and brought up a lot less embarrassing questions; whenever Makoto had his classmates over to study (which admittedly wasn’t much), he’d had to survive the endless stream of awkward questions of their relationship status, even if Haruka was standing right there next to him and doing something decidedly un-sexy like accidently spilling tea down Makoto.  
   A lot of the girls in Makoto’s university had cottoned on to the fact of who he was living with and, unsurprisingly treated him like even more of a celebrity than they did normally, obviously attempting to worm themselves into Haruka’s bed. It really did make them laugh. Fat chance.  
   Makoto had guessed that Haruka wasn’t into girls a long, long while ago, and knew that there was no way he’d ever go to bed with them, even if they didn’t share a bedroom. He was – with an unspoken knowledge – extremely reserved, and completely uninterested in relationships for the time being. All he was focussed on was his next swimming competition, and Makoto was appreciative of that. He really couldn’t deal with walking in on Haruka getting hot and bothered with some other man in their apartment. Not that he’d care. He’d just probably screech and run off more embarrassed than Haruka.

Nonetheless, Makoto would always invite Haruka to parties with him, and (knowing the amount of females going) Haruka would decline, completely uninterested and not up to dealing with the bother of them. Socialising was too much hassle anyway, and he wasn’t entertained by the thought of ending up drunk or passing out in alleyways, knowing he had swim practice the next morning (not that Makoto ever came home even so much as tipsy, but it was just what Haruka envisioned).  
   So that was how it continued: Haruka swimming day in, day out, training for the newest tournament and coming home with an armful of medals or a trophy of some kind, and Makoto doing his university work and popping down to the shop on weekend mornings for a small income.  
   Christmas Eve was sweet, and one of the very rare occasions Haruka ventured out for a social event, deciding it he would brave the university’s females clawing for his attention. The university itself wasn’t directly associated with Makoto’s apartment block, so it was relatively easy to add Haruka’s name to the rent. Lots of the students at the university knew of Haruka, too, so was always an assumed extension of Makoto’s invitations to places, not that he ever went to them.  
   But, Christmas Eve was an exception, and the two visited a couple of bars with some of the other students to meet up and get to talk with each other. Makoto wrapped up in a green polo and denim jacket, and Haruka sporting a black, long-sleeved button-up and unzipped grey hoodie, they walked down to one of the local bars with some of the other students.  
   “Meri Kurisumasu, Haruka-senpai!” One of the girls chirped, pushing herself dangerously close to Haruka’s body.  
   “Have you never heard of _personal space_?” Haruka mumbled, looking to Makoto behind them for help. The girl obviously hadn’t heard him, and stared, eyes twinkling with admiration back up at him.  
   “Hiromi…” Makoto started, placing himself between Haruka and the girl. Haruka sighed a thanks, catching Makoto’s smile back at him. Makoto and Hiromi struck up a conversation, not that Haruka minded – he was keeping Hiromi occupied, for a while anyway – but he would have liked to be able to talk to him, instead of one of the other students.  
   Haruka got chatting to another male student anyway, Kisumi, who he’d met before when he’d come over to ‘study’. It wasn’t that the boy and Makoto had _done_ anything together, but it wasn’t as if his best friend playing _their_ racing game – with some basket-ball playing classmate – was anything Haruka was going to take nicely to. It wasn’t Makoto’s idea, but he’d been polite nonetheless and agreed when Kisumi asked to play it. Needless to say, Haruka had kept quiet about it. He’d talk to anybody if it meant he wasn’t being harassed by hormonal teenage girls clambering over each other to sleep with him. Nice.  
   “Congratulations, by the way.” Kisumi startled Haruka from his thoughts.  
   “Huh?”  
   “On the swimming, y’know, you’re heading for the Olympics, right?” The boy looked at Haruka, obviously not getting the result he wanted. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”  
   “I don’t understand.”  
   “Makoto’s always talking about you, you know. What you’ve won and stuff. Not that I don’t know, I mean, I read your blog.”  
   “Thank you.”  
   “No problem, but seriously, you have to go for it. I know it’s a long shot, but you could totally make it.” Haruka snorted, looking down at his drink. “I mean it.” Kisumi added.  
   “You really think that, huh?” Haruka half smiled to himself. People actually liked reading what he wrote. People enjoyed watching his success. It was strange, he thought, but it made him happy.  
   “Course I do. I really want to watch you do it.” Kisumi grinned widely. “Makoto does too.” _This boy._  
   “Then I guess I have to try.”  
   “It would be a waste not to.”  
   “Thank you, again, really.”  
   “You’re welcome.”  
   “Meri Kurisumasu.”  
   “Meri Kurisumasu.” Kisumi smiled. “Keep that blog going. I won’t forgive you if you don’t.”


	8. Bright Lights, Bigger Blogs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AN: I’m determined to get this one-chapter-a-night thing going again, despite the exams… let’s be optimistic, guys, bear with me! (」゜ロ゜)」
> 
> -FA
> 
> P.S. This chapter was exactly 1,666 words... >:3

_Day in, day out. Dive in, swim out. Breathe in, breathe out._  
   That’s all Haruka was trained to do, now. He’d passed the ‘teen’ teams a month ago on his birthday, and was now training for the Olympics. Not the pre-games teen teams. Not in the Olympic backing team. The _real_ Olympics team. Haruka was swimming for _Japan_.  
   It was something a lot of people dreamt about, imagined, but were never able to touch, let alone _be_ in. And there he was, swept up in the whole unitedness of it all and kicking along with his freestyle in that cold demeanour he always held.  
   He guessed the Olympics were a place that only those who _wanted_ to be there would be, maybe. And it was possible that Haruka did too; he got a thrill out of it, didn’t he? But, once again, was this really a place and a time and an actual _employment_ that he could foresee himself continuing? Maybe, maybe not. Undoubtedly, there was a whole lot at stake, but as long as he was still funding he and Makoto’s living and keeping them both fed and watered, and maybe enjoying himself too, Haruka was alright with it all.  
   Did he deserve his place in that team? Makoto thought so, along with Kisumi, and Nagisa and Rei back home, and loads of other people he knew. Makoto always pushed him on and stood him back up when Haruka came home sore and achy and on the verge of tears. Tears, there was a lot of, on both he and Makoto’s part. Mostly _because_ of Haruka, but sometimes not, and always forgotten quickly afterwards when Makoto cooked mackerel (again) and they played that racing game together (again). It was always the standard, the routine. Like they _cared_ it was the same every time it happened. That was the character of it all: the norm.  
   So, so many nights had Haruka questioned if he actually wanted, let alone _deserved_ his place in that Olympic team, fighting himself into a metaphorical pulp, mentally falling apart and then piecing himself back together again – with Makoto’s aid – every single time. It was heart-shattering for Makoto to watch, and it hurt to push Haruka on, but he wanted to see the boy score that final medal. Maybe even get a small happiness out of it.  
   Makoto knew that Haruka merely saw it as a job, and understood he was caught between wanting it and deciding he couldn’t have it. He wanted Haruka to be happy, and he was positive that something good would come out of all the sweat and tears and anguish Haruka fought with, one day, if not anytime soon. But it would, he decided. 

Hence, Haruka took back to walking. After Makoto finished university, they two of them moved to a slightly larger apartment closer to the heart of Tokyo: closer to the Olympic training grounds and the rippling, glistening pool Haruka swum in every day of his life. Of course the cats came too, and of course they bought the old game station with them. Those little things wouldn’t – couldn’t – be replaced, no matter what level of stable financing or social popularity Haruka reached.  
   The apartment was situated on the top floor of a small block, looking out across the city with one wall opened off with floor-length windows and a small glass balcony (which of course Makoto had decorated with sweet little flowers and vines). There was a large park about ten minutes from them, and that was Haruka let off steam.  
   Sometimes he’d be gone as long as three hours, just walking, sitting, running round the same park area. It wasn’t big at all – it was just a square of grass with a lake, and some trees fenced along three sides to form a small woodland area. It was nothing like back in Iwatobi, and certainly had no river to throw fish into, but it would do. Anything would do for Haruka if Makoto was there too.

Haruka’s blog was absolutely rolling in the money, paying for bills _and_ food every week, companies streaming in emails bi-weekly to be featured on it, or to sponsor Haruka, or maybe even offer some sort of giveaway or promotion. He usually turned them down, picking up on one or two rare or particularly special offers, just to keep them coming (or if they involved some sort of seafood. Those companies always got him interested).  
   Makoto was over the moon for Haruka, and for just being able to watch his best friend get so far from (dare he say it) so little, made him feel better about having to turn down the constant ‘boyfriend’ questions. Why couldn’t people understand that? They weren’t _dating_ , and they never had been. They probably never would, either, much to the media’s disappointment.  
   It wasn’t as if everywhere Haruka went there would be flashing cameras in his face or interviewers constantly pestering and harassing him for some sort of dialogue; it was rare to even see one a month, really. But small sport magazines liked to cover online interviews through email, and Haruka did get a little bit irritated about the amount he received on a weekly basis.  
   Why did he _ever_ think giving his email address out was a good idea?

 

Makoto would go to work every weekday and would come home every Friday to run through Haruka’s emails and get rid of the spam, noting down any promotions or offers from that week. It was one particular email that caught his eye, and he saved it for later, when Haruka would come in. Haruka might actually go to bed with a hint of excitement in his eyes.  
   “I was reading your emails earlier,” Makoto spoke across the table, setting down his chopsticks. He’d finished dinner already, and had pushed his plate to the side, waiting for Haruka to clear the remainders of his sushi. “You’ve had a really, really exciting offer come through.”  
   “Oh?” Haruka looked up, chewing thoughtfully.  
   “Mm, from an Australian team.” He grinned. “An Olympian swimmer, to be precise.” Makoto thought he saw Haruka’s eyes widen a little bit in excitement for a moment, before they faded back to their usual stoic blue.  
   “What about it?”  
   “They want you to go over there, swim with them. One of them reads your blog.” Haruka stopped chewing, setting down his chopsticks and suddenly becoming completely uninterested in the sushi.  
   “They want me to go to _Australia_ , to _swim_.”  
   “Haru, what on earth did you think the Olympics _was_?”  
   “Why do they want me, specifically? Or don’t they?” Makoto paused.  
   “Well…” He glanced away. “They said one of their swimmers was really enthusiastic about your blog and they wanted to meet you, meet their future competition I guess. They said to bring some of your team for the other single-stroke swimmers, too.”  
   “This is wholly informal. Are you sure this isn’t a hoax?”  
   “It didn’t sound like a joke, Haru,” Makoto looked quite hurt. “I think the genuinely do want you to go.” They sat there for a moment, both comfortable with the silence. A cat meowed at Haruka’s foot, asking for the remaining sushi. He fed it to the kitten and sighed, quietly.  
   “I’ll talk with the team tomorrow, coach can sort it out.  It’s not my decision.”

\---

“Why did you even bother asking, Nanase?” The coach grinned. The whole team, including Haruka, stood there, stunned into silence. “Of course you're going. Give me the details, I’ll get right onto it this evening.” Silence.  
   “I bothered asking because I was almost certain you’d turn the idea down, sir.” Haruka broke the silence, deadpanning, a cold stare directed at the coach.  
   “Well you _should_ bother. You boys rarely ever get time to just _swim_.” It all sounded foreign, almost impossible that it was happening. “Good to know you’re not such a dead fish under all that… coolness, Nanase. Can you get Makoto to bring the papers down to us by the end of training?” Haruka sighed. The whole team knew Makoto well enough by now; he’d often come down to the pool to pick Haruka up or sometimes watch them train on weekends, so the coach especially was familiar with Haruka’s ‘roommate’. Even though he seemed adamant they were dating.  
   “I’ll call him,” Haruka sighed. “Please excuse me.” He bowed, before walking in the direction of the locker rooms, heading towards where he kept his things. The facilities were large and extremely spacious with clean, new-white boarding and tiled floors, lockers probably big enough for three people in all. It allowed them to keep spare suits in their lockers overnight, he guessed.  
   Haruka’s locker was located in the leftmost corner of the room. Tapping in a pin code, the door unclicked and he began to root through his bag for his phone, pulling it out to dial Makoto. He picked up on the second ring.  
   “Haru!” Makoto chirped.  
   “Morning.” He replied, ear pressed against the receiver.  
   “Did you forget something again?”  
   “No, coach wants you to bring the email papers down, before training ends if you could.” Haruka paused. “Please.” It was kind of an afterthought, but Makoto knew he meant well.  
   “Oh! You got him on board!” Makoto made a small, excited squeal on the other end of the phone, pausing for a moment to collect himself. “I’m so excited for you all. But um, yeah I should be able to.” He worked in a marine science research facility, caring for some of the larger animals they kept there. It wasn’t unusual for him to drop Haruka’s lunch at the pool during one of his breaks if he forgot it (which was surprisingly often), and his workplace was only a few minutes’ walk from the pool anyway. The research centre didn’t mind Makoto being a little late back to work after breaks; he’d always do overtime if he needed to.  
   “Thanks, I’ll tell coach.”  
   “See you in a bit, then.”


	9. Just a Phone Call Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: *Snivelling in the corner* I’m such a lazy writer gahh, I’m so sorry for all the time skips (no literally you don’t even know, I really am). After this chapter, the fanfiction should go back to a regular pace again. I hope you can forgive me for taking so long with all, lest we mention the amount of horrible writing or mistakes or necessary-but-unnecessary time skips. Pff, totally have my reasons.
> 
> Hope you’re enjoying it so far (?)  
> -FA

The flight to Australia would take about 10 hours or there about, and was scheduled to leave Haneda Airport at 9:15am, preferably with all passengers on board. It was currently 8:00am, and Haruka was nowhere to be seen. Neither was his luggage, or Makoto.  
   “ _Haru-chan!_ ” Makoto was beginning to stress, rustling around the apartment and looking for Haruka’s things, checking them off a list as he went. “You need to hurry up, you’ll miss your flight…” It was always like this: Haruka was always late for something, important or not, usually because he was either bathing or cooking mackerel or something so stupidly irrelevant. It never changed, really. Makoto pushed Haruka’s bedroom door open, deadpanning as he saw what was happening. He stood, scanning the bed, eyes filtering over the swimsuits in front of him.  
   “Haru! You don’t have time for this!” Makoto could probably cry right about now. “Just pick one already!” Haruka stared at him, face straight. “ _Or a few,_ honestly.” He added.  
   “Mm…” Haruka hummed, completely unbothered by Makoto’s fussing, hand hovering over one suit, then moving to the next, indecisive. “This one, this one and… that” Haruka picked up two swimsuits and pointed to the dresser. Makoto stood confused for a moment, before making a choking sound, eyes softening with emotion.  
   “Our team photo?” Makoto was quiet. Haruka nodded, handing Makoto the clothes and walking to pick up the framed photograph from the bedside table, tucking it neatly into the hand luggage beside him on the floor.  
   “You’re not coming in person, so I need some form of company.” Makoto choked again.  
   “ _Haru-chan!_ ” He squealed, pulling the boy in for a tight hug, laughing quietly. Haruka smiled to himself, patting Makoto’s back, before pulling away.  
   “We should go, I’ll be late.” 

Although the airport wasn’t too far to travel by car, neither of them owned one (having decided they didn’t need one, the trains were good enough, and there wasn’t exactly a place to store it anyway). So, luggage in tow – and Makoto taking most of it – they boarded the train and set off for the airport. It was extremely busy, and Haruka being Haruka, was characteristically blunt towards those around him, consciously knocking people in the ribs with his elbows or bumping his case into their shin if they got too close. Makoto gave up on chastising him in the end.  
   Makoto got up from his seat half way through the train ride to allow a pregnant woman to sit down, standing beside Haruka on the row opposite from where he’d risen. He was so kind like that, and the woman thought so too, blushing and nodding graciously in his direction, mumbling a thanks. Maybe she thought he was attractive. No, she _definitely_ thought he was attractive, the amount Haruka noticed her eyeing him up. He almost felt inclined to call her out on it.  
   Haruka was sitting next to a child, who was quiet for the whole ride, obviously going to school or something similar, guessing by his backpack (which, Haruka noticed, had seams that could rip open at any moment). He sat still and just _gazed_ out the window, watching the world go by. It reminded Haruka of himself in some ways, with the manner in which the boy held himself: inquisitive, quiet, understanding, but not calling out with it. Makoto noticed the boy too, and smiled to Haruka, raising an eyebrow and nodding.

At the airport, Makoto helped Haruka inside with his luggage, and stayed with him to make sure he found the swimming team. They’d all been told to wear their jerseys over whatever else they were dressed in, so it wasn’t too hard locating them. But then again, _it wasn’t too hard locating them_.  
   The team was huddled together in a corner by the baggage drop off, attempting to ignore the masses of cameras, microphones and fans hovering in the area. All of them noticed Haruka approaching – and the fans especially – swapped target instantly, flocking to him and Makoto.  
   “Oh, great.” Haruka deadpanned, shoving his way through them to the drop off desk.  
   “Could you- um excuse me- _excuse me sir_ \- no I’m _not_ his boyfriend, we live tog- please, I’m trying to get through with his luggage-” Makoto was fighting with the cameras too, trying desperately not to be separated from Haruka. Both made it to the desk, and some of the airport staff ushered the crowd away. It wasn’t a large group of people, but they were persistent enough to become irritating and extremely _disturbing_ when people knew where he was. It would be worse closer to the Olympics.  Much, much worse. _Great_.  
   Haruka checked in his luggage with Makoto, and the two made their way back over to the team, greeted with smiles and a wave. Well, from most people anyway.  
   “Where the _bloody hell_ have you been, Nanase?” The coach looked more than ticked off. “Our flight leaves in thirty minutes, and we haven’t even been through security yet.”  
   “M-my apologies!” Makoto jumped in. “My fault! I mistimed the train schedule…”  
   “I was choosing my swims-”  
   “I don’t actually care what you were doing, come on, we need to go.” The coach glared. Makoto offered Haruka a sympathetic smile, worrying again.  
   “Have a safe trip, Haru-chan.” Makoto chimed, nodding towards the rest of the team. “You guys too, enjoy yourselves!”  
   “Say goodbye to MaMakoto, Haru-chan!” One of the team members teased, making a kissy face. Haruka leaned over and flicked his wrist against his stomach. “ _Ow_!” Haruka ignored him.  
   “Stay safe,” Haruka turned back to Makoto, giving him one of his private half-smiles only reserved for special occasions. “Look after the cats.”  
   “Anything else?” Makoto laughed. There was a pause for thought.  
   “I want mackerel when I get home.” 

The flight was just about bearable, having been seated close to the rear of the plane in first class. Haruka had paid for the plane ticket along with everybody else in the team, but the Australians had agreed they would pay for their lodgings while they stayed there. It was a good deal in all.  
   The flight had taken off ten minutes later than originally planned, but Haruka hardly noticed, barely even making it to the boarding lounge in time. Airports were big places.  
   “A drink, sir?” A steward knocked Haruka from his train of thought. “We have filtered coffee and flavoured or infused teas on board today, but we do also serve alcoholic beverages.”  
   “I’ll just have a tea, please, just a normal tea.” The steward nodded, walking off to make the drink. The first class was more than spacious and overly luxurious, but the coach had argued it would be better to fly without the hassle of fans on board the plane. His seat was finished in a dark black leather, and could recline to an almost laying position (but Haruka had discovered that by mistake). There was a divider separating him for privacy from the rest of the class, and a small television that doubled as a radio built into the divider. In a way, he missed being able to _talk_ to somebody.  
   The steward returned with his drink in hand, and Haruka accepted it with a polite nod, before turning back to his television as the steward walked off to ask somebody else. The film playing wasn’t particularly interesting, but Haruka honestly couldn’t care. This was going to be a long, long flight, and anything was better than nothing.


	10. Flown Through Translation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Sweating nervously* Whoops looks like somebody was busy. No apologies. Not sorry. Not one bit.
> 
> I just finished all my exams (until next year, woo!) and been to my comic-con (no more of them until next year, either, not woo) so I should be able to focus on this now! I hope you can enjoy~
> 
> -FA x

The airport in Australia was busy, but there luckily weren’t as many journalists or fans in Australia to compete with for airspace. In all honesty, Haruka – and the rest of the team – couldn’t be dealing with it. Sydney was only an hour ahead of Tokyo, so it meant that it was 8:15 – closer to 8:20 – by the time they landed, and the moon making a hazy, blurred appearance over the surface of the Sydney harbour. After passing security and border checks and finally collecting their luggage, Haruka and the team made their way to the VIP lounges, where the Australian team would meet them.  
   The suite was decked out in dark tiles, shimmering in the spotlights and modern lamps that hung from the ceiling. The loungers were white, leather, and made of a fabric that groaned every time Haruka shifted, but it was more than enough to want to lull him to sleep.  
   “Haruka-senpai?” One of the younger members poked him lightly in the arm. “You shouldn’t sleep yet, the team will be arriving soon.” Haruka huffed quietly, sitting up and resting his elbows on his thighs, legs spread.  
   “They take their time.” Haruka bit, rubbing his face wearily.  
   “Oi, Nanase, not falling asleep without Mako are you?” The coach bounded over to the two, grinning his characteristic smile. “Thought you’d last longer than that, you know.”  
   “S’what Makoto-san says to him.” One of the other members snickered, the rest of the team bursting into fits. Haruka glared at the man who had suggested the idea, exhaling slowly.  
   “It’s just a joke, Nanase.” One of the other boys grinned.  
   “So are you.” Haruka retaliated. The team broke out into laughter again. He almost smiled.  
   “Good evening!” A female voice echoed around the room, pausing everyone from their fits, as all heads turned towards her. “Matsuoka Kou, it’s a pleasure meeting you!” She waved, long red ponytail swaying behind her. With not a second thought for hesitation, Seijuro raced to her side, and clasped her hand in his own. Kou shrieked.  
   “Matsuoka Kou!” Seijuro grinned, almost vibrating. “I’m Mikoshiba Seijuro!” His eyes were gleaming, spikey hair seemingly static with excitement. Seijuro grinned.  
   “Uh-” One of the younger members appeared beside Seijuro. “Coach?” He suggested, struggling with the language barrier.  
   “Oh, I understand. It’s alright, I’m fluent in Japanese.” Kou smiled, separating herself from the man attached to her arm. “The team only speaks a little of it, so I act as their coach and their translator.”  
   “Ah,” The younger boy nodded. “I understand.”  
   “Is Nanase Haruka around-”  
   “Nanase is fine,” Haruka also appeared. “Just don’t use my full name.” Kou nodded, pausing mid-sentence at his arrival, staring.  
   “You have lovely bice- I mean it’s a pleasure meeting you!” She stuttered, turning as red as her hair and outstretching an arm. Haruka took it, shaking her hand.  
   “And the same returned.” He nodded.  
   “Team, come forward, this is the Japanese team,” Kou reverted to English, addressing the Australians. “You will be swimming with them for the next two weeks, so please introduce yourselves.”

\--- Time Skip ---

It was around 9:00 by the time everybody reached the hotel, lugging bags alongside them from the coaches. They’d driven to the rear VIP entrance, away from the eyes of the public. Haruka appreciated that, given the amount of press that had stalked the teams as they emerged from the airport and trailed onto the coach, luggage in tow.  
   Kou and Seijuro checked them all in, handing everybody a key to their own room. It must have cost the Australians a ton, but he was thankful for that, too. Roommates – other than Makoto – were not something Haruka had ever been introduced to, and didn’t plan to be, either.  
   Everybody was ushered to their rooms, taking up nearly a whole two floors of the hotel, and dropped their bags off before being invited to dinner. It would be rude to decline, but it wasn’t as if Haruka really had a choice anyway.  
   The room he had been given was elegant but simplistic, although clearly expensively built. The double bed was a basic oak, boasting a plush white and grey duvet and paired with matching curtains, pillows and cushions scattered throughout the room on the chairs and dressing table. The TV was sleek, large, evidently not used much but there should it be, and the view looked out over the harbour. Then there was the bathroom.  
   The only problem was, there was no bath in the bathroom.  
   It suddenly dawned on Haruka that it was usually Makoto who placed their booking orders (when Haruka toured around Japan with the team, seeing as he normally came with Haruka), and that his friend must have asked specifically for rooms with baths. Makoto understood his basic needs.  
   The tiling was – once again, expensive – a black stone, sparkling with natural glitters, and a glass shower with a sliding partition occupied one corner. The showerhead appeared to be a few metal rings in the ceiling, but looked aesthetic nonetheless, and had those good-for-nothing sprayers that only 5 star hotels would find a use for. Haruka certainly didn’t like the idea of them. The rack next to the shower was littered with various soaps and shampoos and such, but Haruka – at Makoto’s fussing – had bought his own, and removed the hotel’s to replace them with his own. The towels were folded neatly to the side, a black pyramid of body towels to flannels placed strategically on top of the marble sideboard beside the sink.  
   Grabbing a towel, he showered quickly and slipped into some formalwear, a black, long-sleeve button-up and skinny, matching trousers, laced with a silver tie and dolphin cufflinks Rei had bought him for his birthday one year.  
   The restaurant was pleasant, hidden away in a private dinner suite with both teams spread between two large, glass, spotlight-lit tables. Haruka took his seat next to Kou and another member of the Australian team beside him.  
   “Evening, Nanase-san.” Kou smiled, raising her wine glass to him. Haruka clinked his against her own, before drinking from it.  
   “Evening.”  
   “I was the one who invited you here, you’re aware?”  
   “I wasn’t. Not that you were female. I was never the one sending emails.” Haruka paused, taking a bite of his seafood. “My flatmate takes care of that, he signed them off, if you can remember.” Kou, chewing on her own food, set down her cutlery. She appeared to be studying Haruka’s face, thinking.  
   “Tachibana Makoto?” Kou spoke, frowning. Haruka nodded.  
   “Not your girlfriend then?” Haruka set his own cutlery down, and sighed.  
   “He’s an old friend.” He deadpanned, rubbing a temple. “We’ve grown up together.”  
   “Oh! I’m so sorry!” Kou retreated, blushing and turning back to her food. “I thought he was- that you were-”  
   “We’re not.” Haruka went back to eating. “We both have girly names.”  
   “Mm,” Kou answered, staring blankly at her pork. There was a long pause.  
   “I really admire your swimming, Nanase-san.” _Back to small-talk_.  
   “Nanase is fine.”  
   “Nanase, then. I think you swim wonderfully.”  
   “Thank you.”  
   “The Olympics is going to be an interesting one this year. There are so many good teams. Are you entering for the relay?”  
   “That’s confidential as of yet.”  
   “I see.” Kou smirked. “So formal.”  
   “I won’t be swimming the relay. I don’t swim for teams.”  
   “Ah,” She giggled. “You’re a single-stroke dolphin, then?” Haruka paused, chewing in thought. _Yes_.  
   “I swim with my friends.” Kou smiled. _She_ _understood_. The two ate in silence for a while, listening to the bubbling of languages mixing together around them. Seijuro, seated the other side of Kou, looked thoroughly put out that she wasn’t talking to him. Kou didn’t notice.  
   “Coach?” Haruka murmured, leaning back in his chair to talk to Seijuro without Kou hearing. He leaned back too, a pout staining his mouth, alongside the sweet and sour sauce.  
   “Mikoshiba is fine, here.” He smiled. “What is it?”  
   “You should make a toast.” Seijuro’s face twisted in confusion. Haruka rolled his eyes. “Thank the hosts for having us, you understand?” Finally, Seijuro’s brain clicked. He nodded. Turning back to the table, Haruka watched as the redhead rose from his seat, gently tapping the wine glass with a spoon.  
   “I’d like to make toast!”  
   “ _A_ toast, you ass.” Haruka hissed. The tables burst into laughter, Kou giggling beside him. Seijuro looked stuck between confused and mortified. He cleared his throat.  
   “I would like to make _a_ toast,” He started again, eyeing Haruka. “and thank the Australian team, and their coach, for their hospitality.” The tables clapped.  
   “It’s an honour to have been invited to such a beautiful country, and we aim to enjoy our stay here with a mix of leisure and competition, but also to get to bond with and meet new friends.” He paused. “I’d also like to thank Nanase for introducing us to this wonderful experience that only he made possible.” Everybody grinned at Haruka. There was a weighted pause, expecting.  
   “Thank you for the water to swim in.” He spoke. The Japanese team laughed while Kou translated. The Australians laughed too. Haruka smiled to himself.  
 _Makoto, I did it. I’m enjoying myself._


	11. Sands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMGOMGOMGOMG ITS BEEN SO LONG I CANT APOLOGIZE ENOUGH
> 
> I'm back with a new chapter, it's finally starting to get interesting !! For some reason I'm only motivated to write when I have huge giant nasty scary exams approaching (maybe it's a release?) but I'm back and swinging my full weight this time. This summer after exams I have months spare to dedicate to writing which I fully intend to spend on this fanwork only !! I have my annual comic convention steadily approaching and my cosplay is all in order, shoots are booked and my partner is raring to go, so all that's left now is to jump straight in.
> 
> So please bear with me just at least past these exams !! It's going to get better I promise !! Until then I do unfortunately have a limited amount of time to write, but afterwards I wholeheartedly swear I'll spew out so many chapters you wont even be able to read them all !!
> 
> Thank you so much to those that have stuck through this horrible wait - I promised I'd come back and I did !! I can't apologize enough for leaving it all but I can promise some exciting and emotional and probably frustrating new chapters on the way. All that's left to say is I hope you can enjoy what's here and what's coming !!
> 
> All my love,  
> \- FA x

Haruka’s fingers graced through the water fluidly, pulling and drawing at the liquid beneath his fingertips. Everything around him shifted – alive at his touch – and shimmered, wavered, the water extending around him, grumbling as it filtered around his body. The lanes next to him were occupied, not that he could see the swimmers, they were too far behind him, and it was almost as if there was nobody else there.  
   He touched the wall, pouncing off in a turn, legs kicking together in a fluid motion and powering him back, beneath and then through the water’s surface. Now he saw the other swimmers, goggles black with the water’s shadow-glare and faces strained in concentration. What kind of swimmers were they, with those faces: twisted with a struggle? Swimming should be effortless, an acceptance of the waters’ strength, a harmony, almost. They looked like they were fighting it.  
   Haruka turned his head for air, inhaling, and then breathing out through the water as his arm extended and carved an opening through the surface, pulling at the water. Haruka, miles ahead of the other swimmers, finally came to a stop at the other end of the pool. One-hundred metre sprints were nothing, a small warm-up, practically, now that he was with the Olympians.  
   “Nice work, Nanase!” Seijuro chuckled beside the pool, noting down his time on the club’s clipboard. “Just two-tenths of a second short of your personal best.”  
   “Thank you.” Haruka nodded, not that he really cared about his times; it was more of an income for him and Makoto. Exhaling and dragging the swimming cap from his head, he shook the black bangs out from underneath. Kou practically squealed from her position at the side of the pool.  
   “Ahh, Nanase-san!” She smiled, beckoning Haruka over from where he pulled himself from the pool. Kou stared for a moment, the droplets of water skimming paths over his skin. She paused, before shaking her head, wiping her memory clean of the images springing up. Haruka walked over to her, standing beneath the shade of the ceramic roofing.  
   “You can call me Haru,” He sighed. “Seeing as we’ll spend more time like this.”  
   “Mm!” Kou agreed. “Then you can call me Kou, too.” Kou smiled, before turning her attention to her own clipboard. Haruka scanned the paper.  
   “Your clubs’ times,” Haruka noted.  
   “Mm, I was wondering if you could help me with them, actually. Pick which swimmers need to work harder, and such.”  
   “You’re an opposing team.”  
   “You’re a nice person.” Haruka huffed.  
   “Nuisance.” Kou laughed, punching Haruka’s arm lightly. Her bag began to ring.  
   “Ah, ah no, sorry! One moment, I’m so sorry, Haru.” She panicked, the shrill vibrations of her ringtone jittering in her gym bag. There was a pause as Kou fumbled around for the phone.  
   “Shinee…” Haruka mumbled, recognising the music as something Makoto listened to a lot. Kou beamed, finally reaching her phone and answering it. Haruka fell silent, studying the clipboard that Kou handed him.  
   “Rin, you know I’m coaching, why did you ring me? …No? Well I don’t… no.” Kou checked her watch, and then looked at Haruka. “Are you sure? …I’ll check in a while, we’re busy. …Rin, look, I need to get back, hang on, one second.” She sighed.  
   “Go get back in the pool, Haru.” She smiled, taking the clipboard from him again. Haruka didn’t need to be told twice. Kou went back to talking down the phone. “ _Rin,_ I don’t _know_. Look I’ll tell you when I find out, stop being so bothersome. I’ll call you later, alright? …Okay, speak to you later then.” Kou ended the call and replaced the phone back in her bag, crouching at the poolside were Haruka was about to set off from.  
   “Fancy coming out for a beach barbeque?”

 --- Time Skip ---

 Haruka had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to wear. It was late evening, dinner time, and both swim teams had organised to go to a barbeque on the beach, invited by Kou’s sibling. It became apparent that the Australian team was familiar with “Rin”, and had met them multiple times, whoever ‘they’ were. Kou hadn’t really elaborated on the details, except that it was a surfer’s party, for a birthday, and Rin was friendly with the host. Nevertheless, it was cooler by the beach (especially at night) and Haruka assumed it was casual.  
   In the end, Haruka settled for some cargo shorts and a T-shirt, loose unintentionally and curving further over his shoulders than it should have done. He figured he must have picked up one of Makoto’s shirts by mistake, not that it was that big a deal; they lived together and neither minded sharing their clothes. They just wore what they liked.  
   Haruka brushed his teeth and quickly ruffled his hair into some sort of shape, calming down the chlorine-drowned locks into a smoother surface. His hair was shiny in the light, not greasy, but soft looking. He grabbed his room keys, phone and wallet, before locking the door (Makoto had nagged him to get better at that) and hurried off to the meeting lounge on the ground floor.  
   Kou, her team and the Japanese team were all waiting for Haruka to arrive when he turned up, squeezed into the inadequately sized room with dimmed lighting and black leather recliners. He was always late. _Always_.  
   “Sorry.” Haruka nodded a short apology in Kou’s direction. She replied back with a smile, walking up to Haruka and linking arms with him. Haruka froze.  
   “I thought we could walk to the beach, it’s only a short distance.” She was _so_ oblivious. Haruka nodded, not used to the affection.  
   “Oi, Kou, got yourself an Olympian boyfriend then, huh?” One of the Australian members yelled out in English, making Kou scowl and pull a face at him. The team laughed.  
   “What did he say?” Haruka asked, confused at the reaction.  
   “Nothing,” She replied, sighing. “Nothing important.” The two teams set off towards the beach, Kou loosening her arm from around Haruka’s as they walked. It was quiet, the duo preferring to listen to the conversations around them than hold their own, and Haruka admired the city around him. Kou led them onto a long stretch of pavement beside the beach. It was her who broke the quiet.  
   “Tell me about that Makoto you have at home. You said you were best friends, I get the impression he’s a little bit of a house-wife.” Kou’s eyes narrowed.  
   “You could say he’s like that, yes.” He snorted. “He does do a lot of the house work and he tries to cook sometimes.” Haruka paused. “And he nags me.”  
   “Oh.” Kou laughed. “Can I ask how you met?” Haruka paused for a while, thinking.  
   “I can’t remember, really,” He looked down at the beach. “We’ve known each other since forever.” Kou seemed satisfied, smiling to herself. She was obviously thinking.  
   “Do you have any… you know, female friends?” Taken aback by Kou’s direct question, he shot her a look, questioning, almost. Kou panicked. “N-no! Not that I meant it like that I just-” Haruka exhaled heavily, cracking a small smile to himself.  
   He could hear their footsteps on the pavement and Kou babbling to herself beside him, the ocean waves lapping gently on the shore in the background. Not too far ahead, there was a small burning light from the beach below them, a few people scattered around the flames of a fire and towards the waters. Kou led the teams down the nearest flight of stairs onto the beach and towards the bonfire. The Australian team walked to join some of those on the beach and helped themselves to some drinks in cool boxes and ice buckets in the shoreline. Kou spoke up, addressing everyone on the beach in English.  
   “Hello everyone! I just wanted to introduce you all to the Japanese Olympic team,” she motioned to the group standing awkwardly beside her, Haruka gazing off into the waters. “I bought them along for the celebrations this evening. Get to know each other.” She smiled triumphantly, hands on hips. Kou turned to the Haruka and the others, reverting back into Japanese.  
   “I told them to come and talk to you, if that’s alright.” She smiled. “Some of them speak a little bit of Japanese, but not many, so it’ll be a good chance for you to all practice English. Feel free to help yourselves to drinks.” The group dispersed, Kou with them, and integrated themselves into conversation.  
   Haruka, a little lost and not too keen on using any English, wandered up to where a small canopy was pitched, kicking off his shoes and dropping his belongings beside them. With an exhale, he walked down to the waves, grabbed a drink and sat, feet lapping over his toes. The water was cold, but not enough to scare him away.  
   The evening was cool, but still buzzing with the energy and friendly warmth of Sydney’s nightlife. He watched out over the horizon. The moon was still low, bright and mirrored in the glassy surface of the sea, calm and tranquil. Haruka looked down to where the water met his toes and slipped up and down past the heels of his feet; he liked it here, despite not ever having visited the country before, or even staying for long. It was something about the easy-going nature that drew him in and reminded him of home.  
   _Home_. Where was home now? Although being completely settled into life in Tokyo with Makoto, ‘home’ still resonated with the woodland stream, still dropping the fish into the water and watching it be washed away.  
   “You homesick or something?” Haruka jumped, a man sitting down beside him. He spoke in perfect Japanese, although he didn’t really look it. He had these bright red eyes that sort of twinkled with a mischievousness and an agile, delicate face.  
   “I guess so.” Haruka replied, looking down at his feet and avoiding the man’s stare, thinking. “Nice here though, I do like it.” Haruka looked out to the sea.  
   “I was like that when I first came here,” The man paused. “At first I didn’t even speak the language, but I’m fluent now. And besides, I still get to meet people like you, right?” Haruka looked up. The man flashed a grin full of dangerously pointed teeth, startling Haruka for a moment.  
   “Your teeth…” He stared. The man laughed, raising one hand to stroke the wine-stained hair on his head, pulled back messily into some sort of ponytail.  
   “Everyone notices that.” The man flashed his signature grin again, deliberately showing off the row of perfect-white teeth. “Anyway, Nanase, thanks for coming. My sister was obviously persuasive enough to remove you from your boyfriend from a while.” He laughed, Haruka shook his head.  
   “He’s actually not my boyfriend.” There was a pause, but Haruka smiled. This man was so _electric_ , it kept him on guard.  “Kou’s your sister?” The man nodded. They looked similar enough.  
   “We were born in Japan but my Dad was Australian. I came out here for the specialised swimming regimes, it’s the best in the world you know. Kou just sort of followed.” The man looked dead at Haruka, grinning. “By the way, name’s Matsuoka Rin. I’m actually the one who proposed this whole idea, big fan of your blog.” Haruka suddenly remembered, the name ringing through his head.  
   “Thanks.” Haruka said simply. _Rin_. The name just sort of rolled out his mouth like the lull of waves in his stream back home. His eyes were so bright. Maybe it was just the firelight behind them casting a dewy glow to the crimson, or maybe it was the energy that raced between the two boys. “I do try my best to uphold it.”  
   “I know, avid reader myself.” Rin winked. Haruka huffed, startled. “I’m friends with Kou’s swim team so I saw the perfect opportunity to snatch you for a while.”  
   “You don’t swim?” Haruka took a sip of his drink, eyeing the man beside him in confusion. Rin shook his head, drinking from his own can.  
   “I’m a surfer,” he grinned, “I _can_ swim, but only with the fishes.” The redhead chuckled quietly and looked down to where the water licked at their feet. “I’ll teach you if you’d like.”  
   “Maybe.” Haruka looked away. This guy was too much. Rin sighed.  
   “You’re colder in person.” Rin reached over and lightly punched Haruka’s arm. “Lighten up a bit, I know the party’s pretty crappy, but I can show you stuff you might like if you come with me.” Haruka turned back towards the man, intrigued.  
   “Oh, can you?” Haruka huffed.  
   “I’m not taking you to bed, creep. You have your own boyfriend, I ain’t messing with that.” Rin smiled. He paused for a while before standing, breathing out heavily. He took a swig from the can again, gazing out across the black velvet water. Haruka looked up at him. From this angle, the firelight gave the man a golden aura. It was so stupid and sappy and horribly _un-Haruka_ , but Rin was just too _pretty_.  It made his skin crawl.  
   “Try me.” Haruka stood. “Show me something.”  
   “Oh yeah?” He stared.  
   If he hadn’t have come for swimming, it would have definitely been for this.

 Finally, Haruka smiled.


End file.
